We stopped to refuel in Sand Springs, Oklahoma, near Tulsa. The airport is
called Pogue, both on the ground and on the radio. It's named for an
astronaut and native son, Col. William R. Pogue, who was scheduled for
the cancelled Apollo 19 mission. Instead, he
was the pilot of Skylab 4 in 1973-74. This 84-day, 34.5-million mile
mission was the longest manned flight in history.

Our plan included two day trips about 100 miles apart, so we used a base of
operations about midway between them. That was Hot Springs, Arkansas. This
is the view of Hot Springs from the National Park's observation tower, looking
southwest. The airport is the cleared area at the viewer's 1:00 position.
The tower's observation deck is 600 feet above street level.

Arkansas is named for the river that rises near Leadville, Colorado, and
flows almost 1500 miles through four states before it empties into the
Mississippi near a place called Catfish Point Landing. We had just spent a
couple of days next to this river in Dodge City, and followed it most of the
way to Arkansas. At Fort Smith, the river went left and we went right, but
we would see it one more time on this trip.

Pronunciation can be confusing. People say "Ar-kan-saw" when referring
to the state, but "ar-Kansas" when they talk about the river.
Especially when they're in Kansas.

Although our main reason for choosing Hot Springs was to have a convenient
place to sleep, the area is very interesting in its own right. Rain that
falls in the watershed sinks about a mile deep through faults and fractures.
It is heated naturally by the Earth's heat gradient. There is a fault at the
base of Hot Springs Mountain that allows this water to rise so quickly that
it keeps its heat – this open spring is 143°F (62°C). Although
the water rises quickly, the seepage is slow. The water in this photo fell
as rain over 4000 years ago, about the time they were building pyramids in
Egypt.

Hot Springs Creek was known for thousands of years by the time European
settlers found the area in 1807. By the 1830s, there were several log cabins
and a store near the creek. People built crude "bathhouses" of canvas and
lumber directly over the creek. It was an eyesore, and fires were frequent.
To protect the area, federal legislation set it aside as Hot Springs
Reservation in 1832. By local reckoning, this makes it our oldest national
park, forty years ahead of Yellowstone.

Government control was loose, and by 1875 there were several wooden
bathhouses perched right over Hot Springs Creek. There were a series of
lawsuits over property rights. In 1877 the government began to reassert
its ownership of the reservation, and to stake out boundaries. In the middle
of all this, a great fire swept through town in 1878, destroying most of the
wooden bathhouses.

As a result of what followed, these open springs are all the visitor can see
easily. Large enclosed reservoirs now collect about 700,000 gallons a day,
and it is monitored and distributed from there.

After the fire, the government established strict building standards, and the
area started to change from a frontier town to an elegant spa. In 1882-83,
Hot Springs Creek was enclosed in an underground arch that runs below today's
Central Avenue.

Today's Bathhouse Row includes eight buildings that were built from 1892 to
1923. This period also was Hot Springs' heyday as a resort. Sam W.
Fordyce opened his bathhouse, the largest of them all, in 1915. Fordyce
deliberately stalled construction until after the next-door Maurice was
finished, so he could build something better. Bathing declined in the 1950s,
and the Fordyce was the first to go out of business, in 1962. Today it is a
historically furnished museum, and the national park's visitor center.

The Fordyce has three main floors, two courtyards, and a basement. It also
had a roof garden. Let's take a look inside.

Hot water once poured from the shell fountain in the lobby. Patrons bought
their vouchers here – 21 baths for $15, in 1919.

This is the ladies' dressing room. The wood is birch, which resists
moisture, stained to look like mahogany.

The bathing process began in the pack room, where attendants wrapped bathers
in towels that had been soaked in hot spring water and wrung out. This room
is full of the same porcelain cots that we'll see in the cooling room.

Next, a short visit to the needle shower cooled the bather off a bit.

After the needle shower, bathers rested at least half an hour in the cooling
room while their body temperature returned to normal. They could go to
another room for a massage instead, if they wanted it.

The sitz tub and adjacent vapor cabinet are in the hydrotherapy room. From
the cabinet with all those controls and hoses, an attendant could spray a
bather's back or legs. The idea was to relax spinal muscles and nerves, and
to stimulate circulation. A variation on the theme was to alternate hot and
cold jets of water, which was thought to be particularly helpful for lumbago
and sciatica.

The Fordyce could accommodate a large number of bathers, but not all could
bathe at once. This is the men's bath hall, where bathers wrapped themselves
in bath sheets like togas, and lounged while they waited their turn.
Hernando de Soto visited this site in 1541. The central fountain shows
a Caddo Indian maiden offering him hot spring water in a ceremonial vessel.
Bathers also filled their cups and drank hot spring water from this fountain.

Neptune's Daughter.
The ceiling skylight above de Soto and the girl was made by the
Condie-Neale Glass Company in St. Louis. It contains over 8000 pieces of
glass.

After such opulent preparation, the bath itself must have been somewhat
anti-climactic. But there was more stained glass, in little windows over the
tubs.

How would you like to be the plumber at the Fordyce?

The chiropodist was the foot specialist of the day, treating corns, bunions,
and ingrown toenails. He also provided other services, such as foot massage
and pedicures.

Of course there was a beauty parlor. Ladies could get shampoo, finger wave,
lacquer, neck-trim, permanent and cold wave, lash dye, oil bleach, facial,
and manicure.

Many people came to Hot Springs to be treated for various ailments, real or
imagined. Besides bathing there were more exotic treatments available, such
as electrotherapy. None of it looks very pleasant.

The well-equipped bathhouse also had several Zander machines. Gustav Zander
was born in Stockholm in 1835. In his youth, medical gymnastics were in
vogue, but he realized a limitation. Human attendants couldn't always
provide the type of resistance a gymnast might need. So Zander
invented machines
that could provide a standardized, calibrated workout. The machines used
weights and levers to vary resistance, and could be adjusted to match an
individual's needs. He also invented some motorized machines to be used by
people who were paralyzed or extremely weak, to keep their muscles from
wasting away completely.
The text is from signs near the machines.

Type B-12 Adjustable Ankle Unit
Sitting in a wheelchair, the patron stretches his leg out, placing the ankle
in the U-shaped stirrup and the foot on the iron plate. The foot is secured
to the plate and the stirrup adjusted so that the ankle is parallel to the
floor. The wheel is set in motion by hand, moving the foot in a circle to
get the patron started; after that, he continues the motion by flexing or
extending the foot.

Type D-2 Dual Direction Motorized Side Sit (Camel) Hip Twist
The long name for this device effectively describes its motion. A horizontal
wheel just above the floor is connected by a rod to the seat. The machine's
motor turns the wheel, inclining the seat in a rolling motion. The sensation
is similar to taking a camel ride, and the "rider" must simultaneously use
several muscles to stay balanced on the seat. Both the inclination of the
seat and the motor speed could be adjusted as needed.

This room was considered the largest gym in Arkansas when the Fordyce opened
in 1915, and was open to both men and women. It was built large to attract
the many famous athletes who frequented Hot Springs, like Jack Dempsey
and Babe Ruth. The Fordyce also has a bowling alley in the basement –
unique on Bathhouse Row – but it was being renovated when we were
there, so we didn't get to see it.

The 675-gallon Hubbard Tub was installed in 1939. A licensed physiotherapist
was employed to help the patients who used it. The rail was part of a
transport used to bring some patients from the elevator to the tub. Patients
could either lie on the board or stand, using the steel rails for support.
Hubbard tubs are still used today for physical therapy.

Patrons could finish their day in the assembly room. As the Fordyce's
literature proclaimed,

Here, under a wonderful ceiling of art glass in five remarkable panels, amid
lavish decorations and furnishings, social groups may gather at ease and
listen to music of the best. Opening to the south is a ladies' parlor and
music room, with the gentlemen's parlor and billiard room at the other
extreme.

Verna and Patrick Garvan bought a 210-acre peninsula on Lake Hamilton, near
Hot Springs, a few years after it had been clear-cut in 1915.
Mrs. Garvan loved the site and decided that she would never allow it to
be cut again.

In 1956 she began to develop it as a garden and home site. She
personally laid out 4½ miles of paths and trails,
marked some trees for strategic removal, and added some others.

Over the next forty years, Mrs. Garvan planted thousands of specimens,
including hundreds of rare shrubs and trees.

In 1985, Mrs. Garvan donated the land under a trust agreement to the
University of Arkansas School of Architecture. She maintained control of the
property, and continued to develop it for the rest of her life.

When Mrs. Garvan died in 1993, ownership transferred to the University
of Arkansas Foundation.
Garvan Woodland Gardens continue to flourish through public funds,
private donations, and over 3000 members.

This is called the Singing Spring. Sorry, no audio here.

This chair invites the visitor to relax and survey the bonsai garden just
below its terrace.

Crape Myrtle
Chinese Hackberry
Japanese Black Pine

Chinese Elm
Japanese Juniper
Dawn Redwood

Right next to the miniatures in the bonsai garden, is the biggest fig tree I
have ever seen. By far.

A path begins at the bonsai garden, following a stream down the hill.

The stream flows under the lovely Full Moon Bridge, after a Chinese design.

It continues through the Garden of the Pine Wind, cascading into ...

... a half-acre koi pond. The fish are well-accustomed to being fed.
Wherever we stepped, they followed.

Just below the koi pond is a 12-foot waterfall.

Back at the visitor center, a large geode reminds us that we actually came
here to look for rocks.

The Anthony Chapel was dedicated in October 2006. It was designed by
Jennings and McKee of Fayetteville, Arkansas.

The chapel seats 160 people beneath its 60-foot-high ceiling.

Our primary mission in Arkansas was to fund our immediate retirement with
diamonds we would surely find at
Crater of Diamonds State Park near Murfreesboro. It was a pleasant,
scenic drive down from Hot Springs, but we might have gone through California
along the way.

We learned a bit of truck lingo on this route, too. I didn't know what
Jake brakes were, but I learned. It's a device to modify engine
behavior. If an engine is decelerating, like a truck going downhill, the
compression stroke costs a lot of energy. But the following stroke, which
would be ignition if there were fuel present, is like a spring; it returns
energy to the engine. The Jacobs device cuts off the fuel and opens the
exhaust valve during the ignition stroke, which releases the energy that was
collected during the compression stroke. This is an extremely effective was
of using the engine as a brake, which saves a lot of wear and tear on the
vehicle's wheel brakes.

The only drawback of the Jacobs brake is that it's noisy. So noisy, that
many municipalities forbid its use within town limits. But I didn't know the
term when we passed through Delight, so I took a picture of the sign
as a reminder
to look it up later. I didn't even notice the much larger sign
that celebrated a rhinestone cowboy.

It was hot at this place. It's farther south than Memphis, almost as
far south as Birmingham (Alabama, not England). You know these places are
hot, so you will understand that many visitors to Crater of Diamonds are happy
to wait in the pool while their parents try to strike it rich.

John Wesley Huddleston discovered diamonds while working his farm near
Murfreesboro in 1906. Geologists knew that this region should produce
diamonds, but earlier searches had come up empty. Huddleston eventually sold
his land, and there were a few more transfers after that. The property
eventually ended up with the State of Arkansas as the state park that we
visited. It's the only place in the world where you can search for gems on
somebody else's property, and keep whatever you find without paying extra
beyond the cost of admission ($6.50). This is the world's eighth largest
diamond preserve. Visitors have found over 26,000 diamonds here since the
park went public in 1972.
Put yourself in the
shoes of the lucky fellow who found the 40-carat Uncle Sam diamond here in
1924. There are a few markers like this on the minefield, commemorating
special finds.

Shirley Strawn is local, born in Murfreesboro. In 1990, she found a 3-carat
diamond that is the most perfect gem ever certified by the American
Gemological Society, who rated it 0-0-0 (that's a good thing). She insisted
that the diamond be named partly for her ancestor, Lee Wagner, who worked for
many years as a miner and caretaker for the Arkansas Diamond Company on this
site. She has one tip for aspiring diamond hunters: "When you find a
diamond, you will know it. There is no mistaking it."
The finished gem was loaned to Hillary Clinton in 1993 for her husband's
first inaugural ball.

This is the mine. It's a 37-acre field that the state plows at irregular
intervals, depending on weather. Many diamonds have been found here by
people just walking along and paying attention. This is called surface
searching, one of three recommended techniques. The other two are dry
sifting and wet sifting.
We chose dry sifting.

Diamonds are formed deep beneath the Earth's surface and brought up through
geological structures called pipes. When diamonds were discovered near
Kimberley, South Africa, the local soil came to be called kimberlite.
Although the term is also used to describe the soil in Arkansas, purists insist
that it is actually lamproite, and that it is different.

The park's instructions for dry sifting are

Place only one or two handfuls of lamproite into your screen, and sift the
light, loose soil away. Look carefully in the remaining soil for your
diamond.

Comfort is essential to the well-equipped dry sifter. She needs a shovel,
rock hammer, trowel, and screen. A good stool is mandatory, and a knee pad is
useful. Although not pictured, a hat or sun visor would also be helpful. The
park allows any equipment that does not use battery, motor, or wheels.

Remember to take frequent breaks in the shade (it's hot out here!), and drink
plenty of water. If you bring an umbrella, you can even work in the shade.

Here's a dedicated miner. There were no recorded diamond finds the day we
were there, so I hope he kept his good luck to himself. Yes, he's in a
chest-deep hole.

He even had a fan club, but they kept a respectful, and shady, distance.

Whether or not you find your pot of diamonds at the end of the rainbow, it's a
great way to spend a day.

In the 18th century, a young French nobleman named Chavet
got his King's approval to explore a part of the Louisiana Territory, and
prepared for the voyage. He was engaged to marry a beautiful Parisian girl,
Adrienne Dumont. She wanted to marry him before the voyage, so she could go
with him. He refused, because of the dangers he expected on his journey.
Chavet promised his fiancée that he would marry her on his return, and
would then take her to live in the New World.

Not willing to wait for her man's return, Adrienne disguised herself
and got passage on Chavet's ship as a cabin boy. She called herself Jean.
Her disguise must have been very good,
because nobody recognized her – not even Chavet. The sailors called her
Petit Jean, "Little John."

The vessel crossed the Atlantic Ocean and sailed up the Mississippi to the
Arkansas River, to the foot of today's Petit Jean Mountain. The local
Indians greeted the French party and invited them to spend time on the
mountain. The explorers stayed there for a summer, and prepared to return to
France in the fall.

The night before the French explorers were to depart, Petit Jean became
gravely ill. Her condition was so bad that the group delayed their
departure. In the course of events, the girl's identity was finally
discovered. She knew that she would not live to return to France, and asked
to be carried back to the top of the mountain, to spend her last days there.
The Indians made a stretcher and carried her up to a place near their camp
that overlooked the mountains and the river. She died there at sundown.

Many years later, a low mound was found on the mountain, with three stones
that were placed in an obviously manmade arrangement. Adrienne's
enchanting story brings visitors back to this place time and again.

This is the view of the Arkansas River from Petit Jean's grave at
the top of her mountain on a hot, hazy summer afternoon.

The picture that introduced this section is the view from the Mather Lodge in
Petit Jean State Park. There is a much larger version of it
here.
The lodge is named in honor of Stephen Tyng Mather (1867-1930), first
director of the National Park Service.

There's a trail from the lodge to the bottom of that valley, but we didn't
follow it very far.

It took about a hundred years after Petit Jean's voyage for the white man's
settlement to take hold in this region. John Walker, a farmer form North
Carolina, built this cabin in 1845. Nine years later, it became the home of
Owen and Jane West, who reared nine children here. Five of them were born in
this cabin, without medical aid.

In 1907, a group of men from the Fort Smith Lumber Company, which owned this
land, came to assess its value to the company. They ended up spending a week
here, thoroughly enjoying themselves. They also concluded that the steep
terrain would only allow them to harvest the trees at a loss. Somebody in
the party suggested that the company donate the land to become a national
park.

Dr. T.W. Hardison, company physician and a naturalist, met with Stephen
Mather in 1921 to pursue that idea. Mather explained that the parcel was too
small to justify developing it as a national park, but that it would be
suitable for a state park. Dr. Hardison met with the governor, and
a bill was introduced to form the park. Citizens in the area added 80 acres
to the land donated by the lumber company. In 1923, this area became
Arkansas's first state park.

It was another ten years before the park started to look like we saw it. Men
from the Civilian Conservation Corps worked there from 1933-1938, building
roads, trails, and most of the buildings there. They also built a dam to
form Lake Bailey, and a water tower to serve the buildings in the main area
of the park.

The park boasts a good paved airstrip with superb terminal
facilities, but we chose to arrive by automobile. There is no convenient way
to get from the airstrip to the rest of the park unless you have already made
arrangements for ground transportation. By the way - that airport has five
campsites, with electricity. First come, first served.

Near the airport is Winthrop Rockefeller's WinRock Farms, where they raise
beefalo. Strange looking animals, but they do taste good. Rockefeller was a
New Yorker who came to Arkansas and decided to stay. In addition to farming,
he also was elected governor. His son is the present lieutenant governor of
Arkansas.

One of the more accessible places in Petit Jean State Park is Bear Cave Trail.

This rock looks like it might be the bear's head.

This is not Bear Cave. It's just an overhang, but there's room in there for
a bear.

This is Bear Cave. At one time a black bear lived in this cave over winter;
hence the name.

Parts of the trail give the feeling of walking in a cave, or at least in a
narrow hallway.

These lizards are all over the place. They're only about three inches long,
so you might not notice them at first.

The trail to the Cedar Falls overlook is another CCC project. Those men
worked for a dollar a day, plus room and board.

Several educational signs on the way down to the overlook describe the plant
life and local geology. The rock is mainly sandstone, with some fossil
imprints here and there. The dark veins are iron. It was deposited when
water flowed through the porous stone. In time, the stone erodes, but the
iron is much harder and remains. This is called Leizengon structure.

About 300 million years ago, this area was below an ocean. It deposited the
precursor to the layered sandstone we see today, which is called Hartshorn
sandstone. Cedar Creek has worn its way through the sandstone, creating this
canyon, 400 feet deep. The 90-foot waterfall is truly impressive; there's a
much larger version of the second photo
here.

Red Bluff Drive has two scenic overlooks. At the first one, there is a sign
but we couldn't read it. The second line almost looks like it says "try
something." We didn't.

At the second overlook, the sign was unobstructed, and its message was clear.

There's a stone shelter at the second overlook that was built by the CCC in
1933. This is the view from there.

There's an easy trail down the hill to Rock House Cave, a large shelter that
was used by Indians off and on for about nine thousand years. More rock than
usual is exposed here.

These are called "turtle rocks" because the patterns resemble a tortoise
shell. The patterns were made by water erosion. One of the formations even
looks like a turtle's head poking out of the shell.

About halfway down to the cave.

This is a shortcut to the cave, but it's not worth using. The walk around
isn't very long.

This is our destination on the trail. Rock House isn't a true cave, but an
overhang that's large enough to shelter a sizeable family. Archeologists
have determined that Indians used the place from 8000 BC until about
1600. There is about fifteen feet of headroom here.

The Indians mixed mineral pigments with animal fat or eggs to record these
pictographs. The minerals bind with the rock, making an image that may last
thousands of years. It is generally believed that these images are less than
2000 years old. Nobody can say with any certainty what they mean.

Some of the images are much more recent than 2000 years old. Graffiti is a
problem everywhere.

At least the other one was humorous. This one is just pointless vandalism.

Hotel Petit Jean once stood near Petit Jean's grave. This was a very popular
spot, especially for honeymooners. The original record of the legend of
Petit Jean was recorded in an old Bible kept in the hotel. It also served as
a meeting place for Dr. Hardison and the owners of the Fort Smith Lumber
Company, and it was here they decided to preserve 40 acres of Petit Jean
Mountain as a park.

In the late 1920s, the hotel was sold, and subsequently donated to the YMCA.
Several facilities were built, including College Lodge, which was begun in
1928. This was the YMCA camp's administration building and conference
center. The old picture is from a sign in front of the site. The lodge
burned in the 1940s, and was not rebuilt. The camp closed at that time.

The stone work above the mantel includes the YMCA's symbol, an
inverted triangle.